


New York: Yellow Borders

by BrokenWingedTenshi



Series: Kingdom Come [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug, Super Sons (Comics), Superboy (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Aged-Up Damian Wayne, Aged-Up Jonathan Samuel Kent, Badass Chloé Bourgeois, Child Neglect, Chloé Bourgeois Knows, Chloé Bourgeois Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne Has a Heart, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Good Chloé Bourgeois, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Protective Chloé Bourgeois, Protective Damian Wayne
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:54:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29918598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenWingedTenshi/pseuds/BrokenWingedTenshi
Summary: Chloé has spent her whole life in her mother's shadow, looking for her approval. She spent so long trying to make her mother proud, she never really wondered what it would be like to be proud of herself. But Jon and Damian seem hellbent on teaching her how.Remembering the old days as she struggles to come to terms with not needing Audrey to love her if she could love herself, Chloé has decided to emulate herself from the days she can remember feeling truly proud of herself. Her days as the Yellow Queen of Diamonds alongside Marinette and Nathaniel. But it means she also has to ask herself why. And remember the real reason they started the courts to begin with.
Relationships: Audrey Bourgeois & Chloé Bourgeois, Chloé Bourgeois & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Chloé Bourgeois & Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Jonathan Samuel Kent & Damian Wayne
Series: Kingdom Come [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2199261
Kudos: 6





	New York: Yellow Borders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloé is tried of being treated like crap, Jon and Damian know she deserves better
> 
> Little warning: There are themes of abuse and neglect in this story, so please be advised this is not all going to be light hearted fun.

Chloé had never been the closest with her mother, but she'd had some hope that coming to New York with her would change that. But if anything, this was proof they may never have the kind of relationship a mother and daughter should. Because Audrey Bourgeois, in front of everyone, had just slapped her daughter in a high class restaurant. All Chloé had done was suggest a chance in Style Queen's model contracts. Just a slight change that would make things easier on the models. Audrey insisted they maintain almost impossibly thin figures. All she did was say that wasn't a good standard to hold ordinary people to.

Audrey had stood and slapped her across the face.

"Just who do you think you are girl!? I am the Style Queen! I am the leader of the fashion world! You are nobody! You know nothing about the industry, and you definitely don't get to criticize my standards!"

In front of all those people, Chloé Bourgeois ran away. She didn't know where she was going, and she didn't care. Audrey probably hated her, and it was all her fault! What was she thinking, she didn't know anything about business. People hated her! Her own mother hated her!

It wasn't surprising that she ended up in front of a small boutique, huddling under the awning in the rain. It had only been raining for a few minutes but already she was soaked. Her clothes were probably ruined, not the she cared. She could see their hotel in the distance, her mother would be returning there soon, sitting in a tub full of bubbles with a glass of champagne. Chloé scoffed, leaning back against the wall and sliding down until she was sitting on the ground, legs pulled up and hugged to her chest.

Maybe if she stayed here long enough she'd get sick enough to be put in the hospital and she wouldn't have to face her mother. That was possible. After all, the autumn chill would probably be enough on its own but she was soaked to the bone and shivering already. And this was New York, it was a big city. She could probably avoid Audrey indefinitely if she wanted to.

She was pulled out of her train of thought by a light tap on one of her shoes, startling her into looking up into blue eyes the color of the Paris summer sky. A friendly smile accompanied those worried eyes, and she pulled her knees closer.

"Are you okay miss?"

Behind him, another boy scoffed, emerald eyes narrowing at who she assumed was his friend.

"Of course not Kent, it's raining and she's shaking like a leaf. If you intend to ask stupid questions, do it after she's out of this weather."

The one with the blue eyes just rolled them.

"Sorry about him, he can be a bit of a grouch. I'm Jon, and that's my friend Damian. Do you know how to get to where you're staying?"

Chloé just nodded, remaining silent otherwise. Her eyes were a bit unfocused, she knew. And the tip of her nose was probably red. She knew she looked a sight, blonde waves messy and page skin blooming with red. Jon's eyes widened a little when she looked over to his friend, turning her head sightly. He hadn't seen . . . On her cheek was a rapidly bruising hand print.

"Can I ask who hit you?"

Oh. She had forgotten about that. The chill had numbed any sting she might have felt. Eyes downcast, she breathed a soft sigh.

"It's nothing. I upset her, it was my fault."

Jon looked back to Damian, whose brows had furrowed. The shorter of the two knelt in front of her, moving to lift her gaze to his via two fingers beneath her chin.

"Someone hit you. That is not your fault. No matter what you say to someone or what may have happened, no one ever has the right to leave bruises on you."

And the words were so familiar. She'd heard them once before. From a girl about her age, when they were seven. A little girl with big blue eyes and darkly colored pigtails who'd frowned at her and held an ice pack to her bruised eye.

It was such a nostalgic memory. Something from a time long forgotten that had made her feel safe. For the first time in a long time. And so, in front of these two strangers on a dirty street corner in New York, Chloé allowed herself to cry for the first time in years.

~~~~~

The smell of coffee roused the blonde from her sleep, laid across a well worn couch covered by several blankets with a heating pad across her midsection. She'd borrowed a pair of old shorts and an oversized t-shirt from Jon, and he and Damian had stayed and talked to her until she'd fallen asleep.

They were living in an apartment in upstate New York, and it was a nice place. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a good amount of space. She was glad, for some reason, that these strangers had enough space. That they did well enough for themselves to be able to be kind.

Standing up on sightly shaky legs (she did, in fact, have a slight fever), she made her way to the kitchen and sat down at the island in the middle with a yawn she covered with one hand. Across from her, Jon was making omelettes at the stove. Damian was standing at the coffee machine waiting for it to finish filling his cup before he noticed her and pulled another from the cabinet. He held up the sugar and she motioned for two spoons and she declined creamer altogether. Today was a black coffee day.

When he sat down beside her, he nodded a greeting and she gave a small smile in return. By the time Jon had finished the food and turned around, he just chuckled softly at the sight of his sleep deprived roommate and their tired guest sipping their coffee in silence.

"Good morning Chloé. Sleep well?"

She nodded and set her cup down lightly.

"Good morning Jon, yes I slept very well. I suppose a heating pad and being buried in blankets will do that to you though."

It was a light attempt at humor, and he chuckled softly. She was at least doing better than the night before. They'd talked about why she was in New York, and why she didn't want to go back to the hotel. Who she was here with and who had hit her (she'd told them just as she had been falling sleep, and they were refusing to let her go back now until they understood more).

"I hope you're hungry, my Ma Kent taught me how to make these, filled my Pa and Pop right up when they came in from working on the farm back home."

Damian just shook his head.

"I've seen your grandfather eat after he comes in from working, there's no way he ate just one."

"When did I say they ate just one? Chloé, do you remember hearing me say that?"

Jon stuck his tongue out childishly when she shook her head no. 

"Alright, eat up. We've got things to do today people, and not a lot of time to do them."

Chloé blinked at him, mouth tugging into a frown and brows furrowing slightly. Damian set a hand on her shoulder with a sigh.

"We're going to find you some proper clothes. My sister brought some over while you slept for you to wear today, and since you don't seem ready to go back to the hotel we're going to find you some clothes for while you're here. Just till you're ready to face your mother. You won't have to do it anytime soon, when you're ready we'll be right there with you."

Her expression softened, and she looked down at the plate Jon slid over to her, picking up for fork and looking up at them.

"Thank you."

They knew she didn't just mean for the food.

~~~~~

Remembering things as they used to be was always strange for Chloé, but these two were so much like her best friends. So much like the royals of Dupont. Jon had Marinette's big beguiling eyes and that soft approach that was contrary to the fact that he could probably kick ass. Damian had Nathaniel's skeptical stare and sharp wit, and the vocabulary that came with it. The memories came unbidden.

Marinette that first time her mother had hit her with something. Nathaniel teaching her how to hide the bruises. Marinette cheering her up when she was down. Nathaniel teaching her how to turn her hurt into a weapon. Marinette making them matching jackets that fit like a glove. Nathaniel showing her how to style it to look just as perfect as always. Marinette defending her. Nathaniel using his skills for her. Her, finally protecting them back, using what she had to protect the people she cared about.

And it made her miss the old days. On her phone, set as her home screen, were the three of them in Red, Yellow and Blue, color coded crowns drawn over their heads. She missed those days, when she was strong enough to fight for herself. And for the people she loved.

Maybe she could get those days back.

But first, she needed to find that jacket. Which, unfortunately, meant going back to the hotel room. At least she could grab her clothes while she was there, and she wouldn't have to trouble Damian and Jon.

At least Audrey wouldn't be there.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Welcome to the third installment of Kingdom Come! I've decided I'm going to bring together some of my favorite tropes in a four book series.  
> The first three books will be about fifteen chapters apiece and will span a six week period from three different points of view. And in the fourth book, we bring it all together!  
> I'll be trying to catch up to Arkham: Red Kingdom before updating it again and then I'll be attempting to get a new chapter of each story posted around the same time each upload. Then I'll get started on the fourth book, titled 'Paris: City of Aces'  
> Buckle up! Let's go!


End file.
